


Inevitable

by From_Dusk_to_Dawn



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, Imaginary Friends AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-07 05:44:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4251606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/From_Dusk_to_Dawn/pseuds/From_Dusk_to_Dawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the grand scheme of things your soulmate was always going to be a child compared to you. You just never expected to bump into them as an actual child. </p>
<p>aka</p>
<p>Soulmates AU where Carmilla meets little Laura and Laura grows up thinking Carmilla is her imaginary friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Soulmates AU where Carmilla meets little Laura and Laura grows up thinking Carmilla is her imaginary friend. Title from Anberlin’s song of the same name. Yep. Also, you clicked on this regardless of the horrible summary I posted so I'm sorry, but this is really your own fault?

 

 

_______

 

_Do you remember when we were just kids and cardboard boxes took us miles from what we would miss?  Schoolyard conversations taken to heart, and laughter took the place of everything we knew we were not..._

 

_________

 

 

You are 320 years old when your soulmate collides with you.  Quite literally.  You finished your last job for your mother a while ago and you are trying to decide where to go next.  You'd finally gotten tired of your last stop over to New York City--you'd been to the Met every day for the past year.  You were spending a few days in Canada because you hadn’t been for a while, and you think vaguely you might make you way across towards Vancouver and then back down to Seattle.  

 

And then this little flurry comes barreling into you, before bouncing off of you, and hitting the ground with a rough _oomph_.  You open your mouth to reprimand the little munchkin, but when your eyes lock you hiss and clutch at your heart.

 

Oh shit. You know what that means. You just never thought it would happen to you.  320 years and you figured that it was over when you died.  You'd never find your soulmate.  You'd thought maybe if you'd been alive you might have felt the spark with Ell.  You just figured it was impossible to tell because you weren't.

 

And now here you are.  Phantom pain still ringing through your heart. And this is just a child. Although, in the grand scheme of things your soul mate was always going to be a child compared to you. You just never expected to bump into them as an _actual child_. It makes you feel a little dirty.

 

The cupcake is still on the ground, large crocodile tears welling up in her eyes, honey blonde hair slightly askew.  Your eyes widen. Was she actually hurt?  Your eyes scan her quickly but she seems okay. Just startled.

 

You reach out a hand to stroke her head absentmindedly, lost in your thoughts. Her tears fade a little and she regards you.

 

"I got hurt on my heart. How did I get hurt on my heart?"

 

You wince. Of course she would've felt that too. Luckily she's a child. She won't remember this meeting. She probably doesn't even know what it means.

 

Biting your lip, you reach out a hand to help her up. Even standing she's so _small_.  You kneel so you're eye to eye.

 

"You got hurt because sometimes when you meet someone super special, your heart wants to let you know how special they are."

 

Her eyes grow wide.

 

"Spe-shul?"

 

You bite back a laugh at her trying to wrap her tongue around the word.

 

"Yes, ‘special’ sweetheart.  Magic in fact.  My name is Carmilla."

 

You reach out a hand to shake. She regards you seriously for a moment before reaching out to shake.  You’re careful not to crush her hand in yours.  So _tiny_ , you remind yourself.

 

"I'm Laura."

 

You smile at her, stretching your face in a way it hasn't been stretched for a while. She is adorable.  All long hair and doe eyes that remind you of something straight out of a Disney film.  She's wearing a pretty pale yellow dress that you can see has gotten a little muddy from playing and a smile a mile wide.  Soulmates.  Huh.

 

You make the impulsive decision that no matter what the consequences, you want to be part of her life for however long you can.  

 

A voice breaks through the fog of your mind.

 

"Laura?  Laura!"  

 

You spot a slim brunette woman calling for her.  She’s pretty, a little too delicate for your tastes, a little too fragile. But she and Laura definitely share features and you have no doubt this is her mother. You suppose if Laura grows up to look like her, it won’t be the worst thing in the world.  

 

Probably not a good idea to be spotted with her if you want to be in her life for extended periods of time. Too many questions.  An adult won’t accept your half-assed explanations the same way Laura does.

 

You look at Laura again.  You only have moments to make a decision before her mother inevitably spots her.

 

"Want to see why I'm special, cupcake?"

 

She nods furiously, eyes still wide.

 

You hold a finger to your lips and wink as you smoke yourself away. The last thing you see is her little jaw, gaping wide open.

 

_________

 

You seek Laura out the next day. You try to tell yourself you're not being creepy. Besides, it's not like you have any designs on her now. She just looks like she could use a friend?  Whatever.  You haven't had a legitimate reason to stay somewhere you weren't ordered to be in a long time.  You think it might be nice to have an excuse to stay.

 

You appear by her side silently at the same park. She startles a little and then furrows her brow.  Adorable.  You frown a little at yourself. You've literally just met her.  She shouldn't make you this weak already.

 

"My mommy says you're not real!" She blurts out.

 

You raise an eyebrow at her.

 

"She says people can't disappear like that!"

 

You smile a little at her.  She sounds so adamant.

 

"I told you I was special, didn't I creampuff?"

 

She bites her lip, and regards you seriously.

 

"Can you come say hello to my mommy?  Then she'll know I wasn't lying!"

 

Oh shit.

 

"Sorry princess. Can't do that."

 

"But why not?"  

 

She's pouting and stamping her foot and you almost give in. You briefly wonder if her parents are such suckers for that pout.  If they are, she'll grow up to be the most spoiled child alive.  

 

"Because I'm _your_ special friend sweetheart. Just yours."

 

"Oh."

 

She's quiet for a moment, thinking.  You can practically see the cogs turning in her head.

 

"I've never had a friend before.  What if I do it wrong?"

 

You frown a little at that.

 

"Never?"

 

She regards you fearfully, as if afraid she's done something wrong.

 

"No. We move a lot cause of mummy's work. So it's hard to make friends.  Everybody already has friends when I get there."

 

You try your best to give her your most reassuring smile.

 

"Well you're not going to do it wrong, sweetheart. I promise."

 

"Pinky swear?"

 

You regard her for a moment.  Children are so ridiculous.  Like two fingers curled around each other will mean anything.  But in the end, you solemnly extend your pinky. Oh if Will or Mattie could see you now. You'd never hear the end of it.

 

After you swear on it, you say,

 

"You know what's the best part of a friend like me, sweetheart?"

 

"No?"

 

"I'll always be there. Even when you move away. I'm never gone forever. I'll come find you."

 

A smile breaks on her face, but it’s small, tentative, like she's afraid to believe you.

 

"You don't believe me?"  You give her an imperious face and sniff.  "Fine. I'll just have to show you by turning up, won't I?"

 

She nods vigorously, her smile a little more certain now. You reach out and ruffle her hair.

 

"Come here cupcake."

 

You open your arms and she burrows into them.  You feel your heart warm at the sensation.  You can do this.

 

_________

 

You start meeting her at the park regularly.  You play whatever game she's cooked up, usually after some book or another her mother read to her.  Some days she’s a cop and you’re her partner on the force.  Other days she’s a knight and you’re the dragon she’s slaying.  Still others she’s a mad scientist and you’re her loyal minion.  You roll your eyes whenever she announces a new idea, but you agree quickly enough that she never gets offended.

 

Once you get married to her.

 

She wants to do a wedding, but is pouting at you, brow wrinkling adorably.

 

"What is it cupcake?"

 

"We can't get married!"

 

Your heart squeezes at her words and you sputter a little.

 

"W-why not?"

 

"Because we're both girls, duh!"

 

You regard her seriously.

 

"Who told you that?"

 

She squirms a little under your gaze.  You try to soften it a little.  You know you look intimidating and it’s not like she knows any better.

 

"No one!  But who's ever heard of girls getting married?  You gotta marry a boy!  Which sucks cause boys are icky!"

 

You laugh a little under your breath because she seems so obviously repulsed by the idea of marrying a boy.  This, you think, is a good sign for you.

 

"Sweetheart," you say, pulling her to your side and tilting her chin so she's looking in your eyes, "you can marry whoever you want."

 

"Really?"

 

"Yes Laura. Really."

 

She smiles, clapping her hands together.

 

"Then I want to marry you!  You're the best!  And you're my special friend!"

 

Her brow furrows all of a sudden and then she's frowning.

 

"Wait," she says, and you can practically see the gears turning in her head, "you're _my_ only special friend. But am I your only special friend?"

 

She looks so concerned, but you're not exactly about to tell her that the two of you are soul mates. That you’re special to each other for reasons other than just your supernatural abilities.  That “special friend” can mean a lot of things that aren’t quite what she means.  But what the hell.  She’s young.  She doesn’t need to know all this.  You settle for, "of course sweetheart. How could I ever find a friend more special than you?"

 

She beams at you and then announces you're getting married.

 

Her version of getting married involves lots of tossing flowers (or handfuls of grass as the case may be) and you pressing a sloppy kiss to her forehead while she beams up at you.

 

You wrap your arm around her and the two of you watch the sun set for a bit before she grows impatient and wriggles out from under your arm.

 

You can't stop smiling at her. You know it won't mean much to her in a week--that's the way kids are--but it makes you smile that at least once you get to do this. To stand before her and make this symbolic commitment.  You keep one of the daisies she’d thrown at your head and press it between the pages of your latest Camus.  For posterity.

 

_________

 

The first time she moves after you meet, she ends up bawling into your shirt, clutching the dark material in her little fists.

 

You try to smile soothingly at her, but truthfully you haven't spent much time around children other than her.  And vampires aren't exactly known for their affection.  You pat her back awkwardly and whisper in her ear,

"It's okay sweetheart. I've got you. I found you. Just like I said I would."

 

She smiles through her tears and clutches you closer.

 

When she's finally calm, she smiles a brilliant smile and you can see the gap in her front teeth where she's lost a baby tooth. Evidence that she's growing up.  Somehow too quickly and too slowly all at once. You try not to think about it.

 

"You came back for me."

 

You smile patiently and wipe her tears away gently with the pad of your thumb.

 

"Of course I did sweetheart."

 

Her eyes grow round.

 

"How did you find me?"

 

You'd rather not explain your stalking habits because it makes you a little uncomfortable that you're stalking a child even if you are soulmates. Instead you whisper, "magic" and press a soft kiss to her forehead.

 

_________

 

She is 9 when her mother dies. You've stopped coming quite so frequently by this point because although it pains you, she has her own friends and she doesn't need you so much. But for this, you make an exception.

 

When she sees you, her eyes go wide and suddenly she is reaching, reaching for you. Your arms encircle her and you tuck her head under your chin. You feel her break down against you and you rub small circles into her back, trying to soothe her.

 

She is inconsolable for days, prone to random fits of crying. Her dad is scarce, grieving in his own way, so you spend many hours tucked away in her room, just holding her.

 

During one of those many sessions, she looks up at you, eyes bloodshot from crying, and whispers hoarsely, "please never leave me."

 

It breaks your heart because you know that's a promise you cannot make.  You never know when or for what Maman will call you back for.  You know all too well that the universe will do whatever it wants, your own desires be damned.

 

So instead you tell her, "I'm here for you sweetheart." That, at least, is not a lie. And then you press your lips to her forehead. And because you can't help it, you nuzzle her nose too, the ghost of an Eskimo kiss.

 

You're worried that she's not sleeping or eating right, but you can't be around when her father is. Who knows what he'd think of the teenager hanging around his young daughter.   But you can't leave her either. Not when she looks at you like her heart is breaking every time you leave.

 

So you tell her that special friends are gifted the power to look over one another. And that if she can't sleep at night, she should look outside for a big black cat keeping watch over her.

 

"Just for the time being though Laura. This is not going to be a permanent thing.."

 

Despite yourself, you sit vigil outside her house every night for two months. It's boring, but it's worth every moment for those times when the light flicks on in the middle of the night and a small, trembling figure appears at the window.  You perch yourself on the tree outside with a fairly thick branch that droops just into her line of sight.  Whenever she appears and sees you, you wave a paw at her.  She doesn’t acknowledge you at first, just stares with wide unseeing eyes.  Eventually she starts waving back.

 

It takes a while, but eventually she's able to more or less sleep through the night.  You almost miss the excuse to watch over her.

 

_________

 

She's 13 and you're helping her with her lit homework.  She's really far too old for an imaginary friend, but she's learned from experience not to talk about you to other people.

 

She groans, putting her head in her hands.

 

"Who can read this nonsense?!"

 

You smirk at her because it's just Shakespeare.

 

"Sweetheart, that's how people used to talk."

 

She huffs.

 

"That must've sounded ridiculous.  Who would've talked like this?"

 

You smile because she has no idea.  She knows that you never age, but she's never really asked. Just accepted it as part of your magic like disappearing in a puff of smoke or turning into a cat.

 

"But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?" you smirk at her.

 

"You've got it memorized?!"

 

"Just a little."

 

"Well can you recite it to me then?  It makes more sense coming out of your mouth than reading it."

 

You roll your eyes at her, "but then how are you going to learn?"

 

But she turns her pleading eyes on you and damnit--she's figured out that you're a soft touch for her pout.

 

You find yourself sighing, but agreeing.

 

“Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief,” you continue.

 

She gets an A on her assignment.  You get a kiss on the cheek.

 

_________

 

At 14, you realize this is getting dangerous. She's starting to look like the young woman she's going to become and she's too smart for her own good.  She's got way too many questions that you won't or can't answer.  She's stopped just blindly accepting the answer "magic" when she asks how you do something and she's much better at noticing your evasive answers when she asks where you've been.  Still, you have more than 300 years on her so you can generally steer the conversation the way you want.  But sometimes there's not much you can do.  Like now.

 

"I heard that when you meet your soulmate, your whole heart seizes up because it knows it's found its partner."

 

You smile at her. You don't know whether or not you're relieved she doesn't remember.

 

"That's true sweetheart."

 

"So you've met your soulmate."

 

"Yeah."

 

She grows quiet then, fiddling with a piece of hair and then picking at the ugly beige carpet.  You’re struck by her, and it’s not even a sexual thing.  She has this inner strength that makes your breath catch a little, especially when she tenses her jaw and furrows her brow like she’s made up her mind about something.  If she'd been born in your era, you think she would've made for a pretty spectacular duchess.

 

"Cupcake?"

 

"I just--" she breaks off a little, nibbling her lip, before her voice comes out so quiet you barely hear her, "I was just kind of hoping that _you_ were my soulmate."

 

You gape a little at her and you don't exactly know how to respond.  Well this was not exactly where you saw this conversation going.

 

She's already barreling onward, "and I know that's stupid because I should've felt something already and I should've grown out of you because you're not even real and who has an imaginary friend at my age but you're the most perfect person I've ever met and if I had to spend my life with anyone, I'd want it to be you."

 

She shifts away from you after that speech and you clench your hands into tight fists to keep from reaching out to her.  Your fingernails dig a little into your palms and you like the momentary pain because it’s a good distraction from this conversation.  You want to be anywhere but here.  No one gives you a guide for how to deal with a soul mate that’s falling in love with you when it’s all kinds of illegal for you two to be together.  Only 14, you remind yourself. She's only 14.

 

"Laura..." You begin, but you don't get the chance to finish before she is leaning forward and clumsily smashing her lips into yours.

 

She pulls back almost immediately, and you both look at each other wide eyed.

 

"I--I just wanted. Just once..."

 

You don't know what to do. You don't know whether to laugh or cry. How the hell do you handle something like this?

 

Your soulmate wants to kiss you.

 

But she’s too young.  It’s not right yet.  And as much as it pains you, you want it to be perfect.  She deserves perfect.  Even if it causes you both some momentary heartbreak.

 

"Laura," you begin slowly.

 

Her face drops.  The effect is immediate, and the shadows catch on her face, toying with the contours and giving her the illusion of age and depth.  You are so far out of yours.  

 

"You don't feel the same. I've ruined everything." She's on the verge of crying and that's the last thing in the world you want. Laura crying is right up there with confronting Maman on the scale of things you 100% don't want.

 

"No.  Sweetheart." You're already fumbling this explanation.  Shit.  How do you keep from fucking this up?  "It's just...you deserve perfect. And you and I?  We're not perfect."

 

Her face screws up like she's going to argue.  Oh god she’s adorable and you want to kiss her and if this is karma then you _royally_ fucked up in a past life.

 

"Just--just give it a few years. Trust me Laura."

 

She bites her lip, but thankfully doesn't argue. You think it's probably the shock of using her real name. The only other time you'd done so was when her mother passed away.

 

"I think we are perfect." It comes out as a whisper, but you catch it anyway.

 

She looks older now, which is unfair because she’s still so young and it’s your fault she’s growing up right before your eyes.  There’s nothing more tragic than mutual heartbreak because of circumstances beyond your control.  Circumstances she doesn't even know about.

 

Would it hurt her less to know that you are soulmates?  But then, she'd probably never agree to your reasoning.  She's too young to know anything but the excitement of first love.  

 

You smile at her like your heart isn't breaking. You won't taint your soul mate with anything less than perfect, no matter how much it hurts right now.  You allow yourself the small reprieve of reminding yourself that you were her first kiss.  Now you just need to find a way to be her last too.

 

"You'll see sweetheart. When it's right, when it's _perfect_ , you'll see this wasn't it."

 

_________

 

Maman finds you shortly after the whole debacle with Laura. You think it might be because your head space was all messed up wondering if you'd done the wrong thing that you'd slipped. You'd been sloppy.  But then, she always knew exactly how to find you if she really wanted to.

 

She's waiting in the dingy flat you've been calling home for the past few years.

 

"Darling," she says and you tense immediately.

 

She wants you back in Styria. Some unfinished business.  She tells you to stop messing around and makes a vague reference to your prior indiscretions and how your return could help mend some of them.

 

Your blood runs cold.  She doesn't know about Laura, does she?  

 

Either way you can't see Laura again. You know she'll be watching your every move.  Your heart aches because you want desperately to at least say goodbye.  You picture that little girl crying into your shoulder, begging you not to leave.

 

This is going to destroy her.

 

You are going to destroy her and you don’t know who will be there to pick up the pieces.

 

Selfishly, you want it to still somehow be you.  But you know it can’t.

 

This is the shittiest timing ever.

 

You send up a silent prayer to whatever deity may or may not be out there that she gets through this okay.

 

You know this is the right decision.

 

At least she'll be alive.

 

But how many cuts can a heart take before it gives out?

 

Her mother's already left her. Now you.  You'd always thought--in your darkest moments when you allowed yourself to think about these things--she'd be the one leaving you in the end. She was, after all, only human.

 

You mouth a silent, _I'm so sorry_ into the night air.  You hope the universe sends her your message, but you don't count on it. The universe can be a real bitch sometimes.

 

You leave with your mother and don't look back.

 

_________

 

You wonder to yourself what Laura's doing these days, but you don't dare look her up. Maman always knows what you're up to and if she catches wind of your soulmate, you're sure she'll use it against you.

 

You've spent a lot of these past few years not letting yourself wonder about her, but sometimes you can't help yourself.  You wonder if she's taller than you now.  You hope not.

 

It's more than a little ironic that she not only reaches your technical age, but she surpasses it in those intervening years.  The one obstacle holding you back and you didn't even get to be with her when it went away.

 

Anyway, you need  to get your head in the game. Maman has sent you to be roommates with some troublesome Lois Lane wannabe that you didn't catch the name of.  You figure the faster you hand Maman this girl, the faster you can try to figure out how to check-in on Laura, subtly so neither she nor Maman ever know you’re there.  You don’t need to fuck her up any more than you already have.  And besides, Maman is still watching you too closely.  You can't let her know.  

 

Laura must be in college now, which will make things a little easier. At least you don't have to frequent some sleepy little suburban town. Less suspicious.  Maybe McGill?  You think you remember seeing a mug with their logo in her house. Maybe one of her parents went there. Maybe she'd followed in their footsteps.

 

With that thought, you push open the door to 307 to where your new roommate sits.  She's tiny and brunette. She whirls around to face you, asking as she does, "um, who the hell are you?"

 

You both freeze when she turns around.

 

The only thought running through your head is _oh shit Maman knows_. There's no way this is a coincidence.

 

Because it's Laura. Her hair is a little darker than when you'd seen her last and she's lost some of the baby fat.  Her t-shirt is too loose to give much away, but you definitely detect the hint of curves that were only in their infancy when you left.  But you've spent too many years memorizing that face to not recognize it.  And besides, even if you hadn't, the look on it now seals the deal.

 

Laura gets up and takes a trembling step towards you.

 

"Carmilla?"

 

Her voice breaks through the haze of your thoughts and you whirl back down the hall, ignoring her cries after you.

 

 _Damnit_.

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second person is weird yo.  
> from-dusk-todawn.tumblr.com


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops I lied to the commenters. This is going up today.

__________

 

_Amazing how life turns out the way that it does_

_We end up hurting the worst, the only ones we really love_

 

__________

 

You've had an imaginary friend for as long as you can remember.   She appeared sometime when you were little you assume, but you can’t really remember a time without her.  She was just this constant presence in your life.

 

You don't think you'd have come out of childhood as well adjusted as you were without her.  You'd moved so often that it was hard to keep friends. But she was your one constant.  Why did you need friends when you had her?

 

She agreed to all your games, even if she did roll her eyes.  You knew she was a big softie on the inside.  And you could get her to agree to almost anything if you pouted hard enough.

 

__________

 

You are 8 when you start to realize that most of the other kids don't have friends like her.  You had mentioned her casually to another girl on the playground at school.  The two of you had been sitting on the swings, pumping your legs back and forth.  Her name was Lauren and she was probably the closest friend you had outside of Carmilla.  You'd bonded in class over how similar your names were.  

 

You mentioned your magic friend and she immediately scoffed at you.

 

"You mean you still have an imaginary friend?!"

 

You flush red. You want to protest that Carmilla's not _imaginary_ , but from your parents' reactions in the past, you know she won't believe you.  You bite your lip, but you're grateful when she starts complaining about Miss Miller's teaching instead.

 

When you go home that night, you're quiet at the dinner table.  Your parents let it go for a little bit before your dad eventually clears his throat and asks, "What's bothering you little bug?"

 

You stubbornly shake your head and continue poking listlessly at your mashed potatoes.  You don’t understand why you can’t have cookies for dinner.  The lack of cookies in front of you is making you annoyed.

 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see your mom nudge your dad and he asks again, “sure about that Laur?”

 

You bite your lip for a second before it all comes spilling out.  Lauren’s comment which wasn’t exactly _mean_ , but definitely hurt your feelings.  You don’t even realize you’re so upset until you’ve been jabbering at them for a few minutes.

 

Your parents calm you down as best they can and let you stay up late and watch tv with a plate of cookies in front of you.  Later, after they’ve tucked you in, you’re thirsty so you head downstairs.  Just before you reach the bottom step, you hear their hushed whispers.

 

“Shouldn’t she have gotten over this by now?” your dad whispers, “it’s not exactly normal at her age, is it?”

 

“Darling, everyone develops at their own rate.  She’ll let go when she’s ready.”

 

You sneak back upstairs without your glass of water.  Even your parents don’t believe you.

 

__________

  


You’re 9 when your mother passes away.  You’d been avoiding Carmilla for a little bit, trying to be like the other kids.  You tell her you’re busy with your other friends.  It’s only half a lie.  You think you should be able to let her go.  But you miss her.

 

When your mother passes away, you stop trying for distance.  Your dad is a wreck, but when he sees you he tells you how _grateful_ he is that you’ve been so strong through all of this.  And you know that crying in front of him will only make it worse.  So you retreat to cry.  And Carmilla always comes to find you.

 

During that time, you cry yourself to sleep in her arms so many times that you lose count. Home never felt like home again without your mother. Your dad kept wandering around looking lost and you hate that expression on his face.  So unlike your daddy with his big booming laugh and smiling eyes.  But you found a new home snuggled in her arms. Your new home was warm and caring and smelled like pine needles, old books, and some scent you'd never been able to identify that you'd always just labeled _Carmilla_ in your mind.

 

You spent many nights waking up with cold sweats.  On nights when it was especially bad, you went to your window and turned on the light.  And without fail, an enormous black cat greeted you with a lazy paw.  The same black cat that prowled the edges of your dreams, trying to keep you safe from your own thoughts.  

 

It’s not quite as good as having her wrapped around you, so you curl yourself around your pillow, the one that still smells like her, and try to pretend she’s holding you.  She’ll be there in the morning.

 

__________

  


You’re 12 and puberty is seriously kicking your butt.  Your face feels like a warzone, prone to breakouts at any second.  Your body is being really weird, like growing 3 inches.  You have to _shave_ now.  It’s totally gross.  Carmilla keeps teasing you because you’re still not quite as tall as her, but you can usually shut her up by smugly noting that you’re still growing.  She, obviously, isn’t.

 

Carmilla is lounging on your bed at the moment, reading some impossibly thick book.  Of course her face is perfect.  No acne of any kind.  She doesn’t have these kinds of problems. You wonder if she ever did.

 

You can't stop reaching out to touch her face.  She stiffens.  You've been doing this a lot lately.  Touching her for no reason.  You don't really know why, you just like touching her.

 

"How do you not have any acne at all?  It's so unfair," you whine at her.  "Your skin is literally perfect.  Like something I only see on TV."

 

She laughs a little, relaxing into your touch.

 

"Can't help being perfect sweetheart."

 

You make a face at her, but don't disagree.  She seems to pick up on your acquiescence and smirks at you.

 

You try to concentrate on your homework as she reads something that doesn't even look like it's in English.  When you ask, all you get back is that Camus is much better in the original French.  You wish you were as smart as Carmilla.  Or as pretty.  Maybe one day. Then again, maybe not.

 

__________

  


You are 13 when you realize you're gay.  And that you kind of, maybe, have a thing for Carmilla.  

 

You're in school, sort of absentmindedly doodling a Tardis into your notebook, which quickly becomes a lot of loopy swirls, which somehow manifest themselves into Carmilla's name.  You're tuning out Mr. Jackson's explanation on Shakespeare because even if you really should be paying attention, he's just so boring.

 

Besides, Carmilla will explain it to you later. After she told you that Romeo and Juliet was basically just Lion King 2, everything was so much easier.  You can hear her voice in your head that Shakespeare is obviously superior to Disney, but you ignore it.

 

Hearing Carmilla's voice brings you back to thinking about Carmilla.  You're usually thinking about her--she is your best friend after all--but something has been different lately.  

 

You've spent a lot of time thinking about how pretty her eyes are.  Obviously, Carmilla's eyes are like no one else's you've ever seen.  Which is dumb to say because they’re just brown.  But a really pretty brown.  And they’re shaped really nicely.  

 

Or you think about how you kind of want to spend time running your hands through her hair.  But that's not weird because she has the softest hair of anyone you've ever met and you should ask her what conditioner she uses.  You would if you could concentrate around her long enough to remember.  But lately you've found yourself sidetracked and stuttering in her presence.  Which is weird because you've _never_ had trouble talking to Carmilla.

 

But when she talks you keep zoning out.  And thinking about her lips and how soft they look. And how pretty they are when she smiles. And how you wonder what they'd feel like against yours.

 

Your eyes widen and you make a little choking sound.  Your desk mate turns to look at you, but you wave them off.  Holy crap.  You want to kiss Carmilla.  You want to kiss Carmilla.  Carmilla...probably does not want to kiss you back.

 

You deflate a little at this.

 

And why would she?  She's always been so pretty, so smart, so out of your reach.  And you've always just been that little girl she hangs out with sometimes.

 

You cringe when you remember that she's see you in all your preteen glory.  Even now, you must seem like such a child compared to her.

 

But still.  You're gay.  This is big news.  Although this explains a few things.  Like why you always liked Lois Lane better than Superman and Rose Tyler better than the Doctor.

 

You wonder what Carmilla will say when you tell her.

 

__________

  


You are 14 when you find out about soulmates.  All the girls in the locker room at gym today had been gossiping about it.

 

You kept thinking about soulmates and your mind kept wandering back to Carmilla and then you just couldn’t keep it all bottled up inside.  And now you’re here.

 

Telling Carmilla exactly how you feel about her.  You’re a little bit of a rambling mess honestly, even though you knew you’ve liked her for ages.  

 

And then you’re sliding your lips across hers because you literally can’t not anymore and _wow her lips really are as soft as they look_ , until you realize that you definitely don’t have permission to kiss her and she’s not kissing you back and this is a terrible idea.

 

You pull back abruptly.

 

Carmilla’s trying to say something, but you can’t hear her over the blood rushing in your ears and there are tears in your eyes and this was definitely a mistake.  Why did you do that?

 

Carmilla stays long enough to calm you down and things are kind of awkward between you, but she’s so _kind_ about the whole thing.  About your feelings.  You don’t know if that makes it better or worse.  In spite of yourself, you still cry yourself to sleep a little.

 

__________

  


You’re 14 when you find out what heartbreak feels like.

 

It’s three days after The Incident (as you’ve named it in your mind), and Carmilla hasn’t come back.  You try to convince yourself that she just needs space.  She always came back when you argued with her as a kid.

 

A whole week later and you’re starting to realize that she’s probably not coming back.  You ruined everything by being stupid and hormonal and now your best friend isn’t coming back.

 

Every day she doesn’t return, you cry yourself to sleep.

 

After three weeks of near constant fits of crying, you break into your father’s liquor cabinet and get drunk for the first time in your life.  You’ve heard somewhere that alcohol numbs pain.

 

Your father finds you, curled up on the floor, tear stains down your face, and a bottle of half-finished whiskey in your hand.

 

You start therapy the next day.

 

__________

  


You are 14 when you stop believing in magic.  

 

Your therapist explained to you that because your mother passed away around the time that it would've been normal to let go of imaginary friends, you'd used Carmilla as a crutch.  Which you suppose makes sense.  Even if you don’t totally believe her.  She hadn't felt the warmth of Carmilla's embrace.  

 

You couldn't help yourself.  She was gorgeous, and perfect. Or at least perfect for you. She'd always been there for you.  She was everything that you wanted.  Sarcastic, but gentle with you.  Smarter than anyone you'd ever met.  Funny without really trying.  It was stupid of course. Who falls in love with their imaginary friend?

 

It had been rough, and you got into more fights with your therapist than you care to recount because you knew what was real _thankyouverymuch_ and Carmilla was definitely real.

 

But you were eventually convinced. After all, a gorgeous, perfect, never-aging friend that could magically poof places, be there wherever you moved, and could become a cat was not exactly what could be called normal.  The evidence was piled against you and your therapist slowly worked back through all your memories.  

 

Where there used to be you and Carmilla, you now understood had just been you.  Just you playing house.  Just you doing your homework.  Just you marathoning Doctor Who.  Your childhood felt a lot emptier without Carmilla to fill the gaps.

 

The rest of high school was exceptionally lonely without her.  You had a few friends and even a few dates, but nothing ever felt as right as Carmilla. You resigned yourself to the fact that no one would ever live up to the perfect girlfriend you'd made up in your mind.  No one would ever meet that invisible bar.

 

__________

  


When you were 18, you’d considered yourself pretty removed from Carmilla.  But that hadn’t stopped you from googling her hometown late one night when you couldn’t sleep.  Styria.  Cold, wintry wonderland nestled in the middle of nowhere.  Not unlike here.

 

There was one university.  Silas.

 

You applied without a second thought.

 

It was only when you got in that things became a little bit realer.  What were you doing, really?  Going to the middle of nowhere because of some childish fantasy you’d once had?  But still, something inside you yearned for adventure and freedom.  And Styria was as good a place as any.

 

Your dad was another story entirely.  He’d never yelled at you before, not even after finding you passed out that one night, but the slump in his shoulders when you’d told him you wanted to move to the other side of the globe hurt nearly as badly.  You think you would’ve preferred him yelling.

 

It was the most awkward dinner you could ever remember having.

 

You’re torn.  On the one hand, you really don’t like disappointing your dad.  You’ve had a few rough patches, but who hasn’t?  And he’s tried so hard to be a good dad to you.  But on the other hand, you desperately want to get out of this place.  And something--something you resolutely refuse to label _Carmilla_ \--is calling you to Styria.

 

You curl up in bed and watch a little Doctor Who to take your mind off of things.

 

Later, much later, after you’re halfway through re-watching the end of Rose Tyler and the Doctor, you hear a knock at your door.  You pause what’s onscreen and compose yourself.  Your dad never knocks.  You’re a little worried.

 

“It’s open,” you call out and the door creaks open.

 

Your dad is standing in the door frame, but he’s shifting on his feet, like he’s not sure he’s going to come in.

 

You bite your lip, but you pat the side of your bed and his eyes light up a little.  He moves to sit next to you, throwing one arm around you and pulling you close.  You feel the tension seep out of your shoulders.  He doesn’t hate you.  Thank god.

 

He’s speaking to you in low tones, his voice rumbling through you.

 

“--and I looked it up and it’s a great school and I’m so _proud_ of you for getting in and I know I didn’t react the best and--”

 

“Dad!”  you cut in, laughing a little.  You’d forgotten that you got your rambling from him.  Your mother never rambled like this.

 

“I am Laura bug.  I’m so proud of you.”  He’s so earnest and your eyes well up a little and you’re hugging him, burying your face into his flannel shirt.

 

“You’re going to call me every day, okay?” he whispers fiercely and you find yourself nodding.

 

“And I’m sending you bear spray.  For every day of the week.”

 

“Dad,” you laugh, pulling away a little and wiping off your eyes, “I’m not even sure they have bears out there.”

 

“No,” he concedes, “but they do have teenage boys and I’m not sure there’s a difference.”

 

You laugh and roll your eyes.  

 

“I already told you I’m gay.”

 

“Won’t stop them from trying.”

 

“You made me take Krav Maga for like a decade now!”

 

“Laura,” he’s looking at you, so earnestly, “I just want you to be safe.  If I can’t be there to protect you, please let me do this much.”

 

And how can you help but agree?

  
  


__________

  


You’re 19 and for the first time in your life, you’re on your own.  

 

When you first arrived, you spent the first few weeks whipping your head towards any curly-haired brunette in the vain hope it would be her. It was stupid because you'd gotten over this already.  Still, just being in this place made you feel closer to her.  

 

You thought you might be finally getting over her when you meet Danny.  Danny was tall, athletic, and ginger.  She was warm and open and always willing to tell you whatever was on her mind. You couldn't get much more different from Carmilla.  It wasn't quite the same and you didn't feel the soulmate connection everyone claimed you needed, but you think that it'll be okay. You can settle for less than what your younger self dreamed up as perfect. This was better. This was _real_.

 

Then your roommate went missing and things went a little haywire. You think to yourself more than once how convenient it would be to have your magic friend to help out.  But that wasn't how the real world worked and _Laura you really need to let this go_.

 

You're so busy worrying over Betty and being pissed at the administration that you almost miss the heavy thud of boots at your door. But then your brain registers it and it can't possibly be Perry or Laf or even Danny. None of them wear boots like that.

 

You turn around to give the person a piece of your mind.  You're already pissed off and you don't want to deal with an intruder.  But your ranting is cut short and all you can do is gape. There, standing in your doorway, looking exactly like the day she left you 5 years ago is Carmilla.

 

You manage to get up and take a tentative step towards her.  You might be losing your mind--maybe it's the stress of this Betty thing--but you can't stop yourself from calling out to her.

 

Her eyes widen and she vanishes down the hall.  

 

You lose track of how long you stand in your doorway calling her name, but you know it’s useless to follow.  If she’s there, if she’s the same Carmilla you knew, then she can _poof_ away at any moment.  Following her is useless.

 

On the other hand, you need to know whether or not you were hallucinating.

 

You head to find Perry.  She’ll know.

 

“Hey… did you happen to know if I got a new roommate?”

 

“Yes. Her name’s Carmilla.  Carmilla Karnstein.  Don’t...don’t be alarmed if she’s a little… abrasive.”

 

You don’t know how to react.  She’s really here.  You’re not dreaming this up.  Other people know who she is. This is all kinds of messed up.  It’s kind of hilarious that Perry is warning you about your best friend.  Or...whatever Carmilla is.  You’re not entirely sure right now.  You hastily thank Perry and back out of the room.

 

You wait patiently for the next few days, but Carmilla never reappears.  You frown just thinking about it.  Where would she go?  You never thought about it when you were younger, but she must stay somewhere.   She apparently lives here.

 

In the end, you track down Lafontaine and ask them to hack into the school system to look for her.

 

At their incredulous look, you mention that Carmilla’s been missing and you’re a little worried.  Maybe it was tied to the other missing girls?

 

Laf snorts and says that Carmilla has nothing in common with the others (actually mutters that Carmilla's more likely _involved_ than taken), but agrees to look anyway.  You manage to talk them into printing out her class schedule so you can look for her.

 

You spend 20 minutes waiting outside her philosophy lecture the next afternoon.  Surprisingly, she is the last to leave.  She looks like she’s about to bolt again when she sees you, but you are prepared this time.

 

You grab her arm in a vice grip and don’t let go.  

 

You know she could just vanish on you, but you hope she’s beyond that.  After a few moments, her shoulders slump and you think you’re in the clear.

 

“Not here,” she mutters and tugs you back to your dorm.

 

You’re silent the whole walk back, but after she shuts the door and flops down on Betty’s (her?) bed, you can’t contain yourself any longer.

 

“Why did you let me believe you were imaginary?”

 

She furrows a brow at you.

 

“I never said I was imaginary sweetheart” and god that nickname hits you square in the chest, reminding you that you definitely still have a crush on her, “I said I was special or that I was magic.  Never imaginary.”

 

You’re quiet for a moment.

 

“I was in therapy for years because they thought I’d made you up.”

 

She winces a little.  “Sorry.”

 

“Why didn’t you just… why did you leave?”

 

She curls up on herself a little on the bed and you resist the urge to reach out to her.  You’re mad at her.  You aren’t this weak.

 

“I couldn’t stay.”

 

“That is _not_ an answer.”  A pause and then, “is it because I kissed you?”

 

“What?  No!”  Her denial is so immediate, so adamant that you feel a small sliver repair itself in your heart.  At least she didn’t hate kissing you so much that she left.

 

“Because I was getting too old?”  You guess again.

 

She groans.  “That made it harder to leave.”

 

You’re stumped.  “Then what?”

 

She sighs.  “Forces beyond my control.  I’m sorry sweetheart.”

 

“You couldn’t have even said goodbye?”  You’re proud of your voice for not cracking.  It wavers a little, but it doesn’t crack.

 

She sits up with her usual feline grace and you bite your lip.  You’re still so very attracted to every movement she makes.  It’s a little unfair.  You’d grown to love every little tic about her over nearly a decade of your life.  You’d been in love with her for longer than you knew what love even was.  How was anyone else supposed to compete with that?

 

She looks you dead in the eyes and your heart stutters a beat.

 

“I wanted to Laura.  But I really couldn’t.”

 

You feel petulant, like a small child.  Perhaps because you were one around her for such a long time she brings it out in you.

 

“That’s still not an answer.”

 

“Well it’s the only answer I’m prepared to give.”

 

You feel your hands clenching around nothing..  After years of nothing, years where you were so fucked up over her leaving that you required therapy, this is the least satisfying conclusion you can imagine.

 

Was she always this annoying?

 

“Why did you keep coming back to me as a child?”

 

She quiet for a moment, working through something in her head.  And then her whole posture changes.  She shrugs, indifferent.  “Maybe I was just bored.”

 

You grit your teeth because you know that’s a ridiculous reason to sit around with a child for about a decade, especially when that included things like helping you with your homework or comforting you when you were sad.  You press on.

 

"Ok well, explain the magic. You never age!"

 

"Maybe I just have really great genes. Ever think of that buttercup?"

 

"I don't ever remember Captain America being able to teleport places or turn into a cat!"

 

"Can't believe everything you read in comics."

 

"You--!"

 

"I'm just me princess. Don't blame me if you were expecting something different."

 

You try to calm your breathing. Ok your subconscious couldn't have dreamed up something this annoying.

 

"Well what about the missing girls?"

 

"What about them?"

 

"So you _do_ know something about them."

 

Her smirk drops away and she leans towards you. You struggle not to look at the exposed cleavage because now is _so_ not the time, but you're still a little in love with her.  You worry you always might be.  You hope not.  She ignores your ogling and lowers her voice, "stay away from that Laura."

 

"What, why?"

 

"I'm serious."

 

"Girls are going missing!  I'm not just going to sit here and do nothing!"

 

Her mouth twists a little.

 

"You're a child and you know nothing.  Now," she's shifting on the bed and then standing so she's taller than you, "if this interrogation is over Lauronica Mars, I have places to be."

 

And then she's breezing out the door.  Your mouth drops open a little. You can't believe this person was ever your best friend.  

 

__________

  


The next few weeks are interesting to say the least.

 

Carmilla is actually sleeping in your room now.  Although you use the term loosely.  She seems to be nocturnal and most of the sleeping she does seems to be with random giggly girls. Almost never the same ones.

 

The first time you see her with one, your heart drops to your stomach.  What did they have that you didn’t?  Why weren’t _you_ enough?  Eventually you have to let it go. You accept that this isn't the same girl who held you as you cried yourself to sleep when your mother died. You don't know who this stranger is, but they're not the same.  Besides, you have a mystery to solve.  As long as you concentrate on that and not the way your heart breaks every time you see her kissing someone new--someone that’s not _you_ \--you’ll be okay.

 

When Laf casually mentions that she's a vampire, your first impulse is to laugh.  You'd have known if she was, wouldn't you?  But then you pause.  What do you really know about her anyway?

 

You haven't told your friends about your history. You don't even know how to start that conversation. _By the way, Carmilla's also kind of my imaginary friend and I'm still half in love with her_.  Yeah. That'll go over real well.

 

So instead you let them talk.  A plan is set in place. You're going to trap her.  Your heart twists a little at the thought, but you remind yourself for the umpteenth time that this is not the same Carmilla you knew when you were young.

 

You invite her out on the notion that you need to get reacquainted. It's been five years after all.  She looks at you like she's going to refuse and you pout at her a little.  It seems there are at least some things that don't change.  She agrees to come.

 

When you slip on the white dress that you've decided will best serve your purposes, your mind can't help but wander back to all those times the two of you played house together.  You'd pictured wearing a white dress for her more than once in your imagination.  Somehow this was never what you had in mind.

 

She waltzes in early, destroying all your plans.  Suddenly she is in your space, closer than she's been in years. Your breath hitches. You want desperately for her to kiss you.  But you know that ship sailed long ago. If it even was a ship. Possibly just your delusions.  She’s made it very clear that she’s willing to kiss just about any girl on campus but you.  Which means she's going to eat you. You can't believe she's actually going to _eat_ you.  After all this time, it's come down to this.

 

Then Danny and the others are storming in, taking you both by surprise.  The betrayal you catch in her eyes as she turns to face them makes you want to take everything back.  You bite your lip to keep yourself from stopping them.

 

When you rip the duct tape from her lips, she gives you a look like she doesn't even know who you are anymore.  You don't know when this will start feeling like you're doing the right thing instead of just feeling like heartbreak.

 

"You've got to tell us what you were doing because the night we captured you, it sure looked like you were going to eat me."

 

She collapses into herself a little. You don't think you've ever seen her look this frail.  She was always indomitable, indestructible.  Now she just looks broken.  And that's your fault.  A bitter little voice in your heart says _good, now she knows how it feels_ , but you push that voice down.  

 

"You thought I'd actually eat you?  After everything we've been through, you thought I'd just eat you?"  Her voice is barely a whisper.

 

You don't really know what to say. On the one hand no?  Not really.  On the other hand, you don't know anything about her.  And if she wasn’t going to eat you what was she--oh.   _Oh_.

 

At least you can console yourself that she likes you as much as any of those other girls.

 

"Ok well at least explain how you're caught up in all of this."

 

She gives you a pained look you don't know how to interpret, but launches into her story nevertheless.

 

You're quiet when she finishes.

 

After a beat, "was she--Ell, I mean--was she your soulmate?"

 

Carmilla is silent for a moment. She won't look up at you. Then a jerk of her head. Just a quick up and down motion.

 

Oh.

 

Betrayed by her soulmate.

 

How long has she been wandering around with that on her shoulders?

 

When she saves you from Will, something seems to click back into place. You think maybe your best friend is still in there somewhere. You just have to find her.

 

__________

  


She saved you from Will.  She saved you from the mushroom spores.  And at the library.  This is becoming a habit.

 

Never mind that the same black cat from your childhood is prowling on the edge of all your dreams again. It's comforting having it there.  This nightly reminder that whatever Carmilla may say or do during the day, she cares enough to keep watch over you at night.

 

You keep reminding yourself that falling for her _again_ would be really stupid, but your traitorous heart won’t listen.  It never really stopped falling in the first place.  

 

Laf accuses you of crushing on vampires and you protest a little, but you know in your head that whatever this is, it’s been far deeper than a crush for a very long time.

 

And then she takes your hand and waltzes you about the room, pulling you so close that you can see her individual eyelashes.  Your breath catches.  

 

And just as quickly, she’s extricating herself from you, doing the chivalrous thing and offering you her bed.  As soon as she’s out of sight, you let yourself collapse onto it.

 

Yeah.  You’re definitely not over her.

 

__________

  


When she betrays you to her mother, you realize whoever you thought she was was wrong. You don't know this stranger.  It hurts you to think it and you lash out at her.  That little girl who loved Carmilla was finally understanding the ways of the world.  You were finally growing up.  Why did growing up hurt so much?

 

You don’t have time to think about it.  You’ve got an evil vampire cult to stop and if your useless imaginary friend won’t help, you’ve got to come up with a new plan.  Win or lose, someone’s got to stop them.

 

But then she shows up at the Lustig, sword in hand, and your heart starts beating again the moment she arrives.  

 

And all too soon your heart is left in scattered pieces on that battlefield.

 

She made you believe in magic again.

 

You just didn't know there was such a high price for it.

 

__________

  


You mourn her for days.  The others gently remind you that you only knew her for a few months and she wasn't even human.

 

You don't know how to tell them you've known her your whole life.  You figure it doesn't matter anymore.

 

Your stupid imaginary-not imaginary-friend.  Who was stupidly heroic enough to leap into a pit of light knowing it could kill her.

 

You think you should probably be happy for her.  That she’s reunited with her soulmate.  But all you can think about it how you never told her how much you loved her.  How much you’re in love with her.

 

You love her.  You _love_ her.  You love her.

 

You’ll never get to tell her how much.

 

__________

  


When Danny brings her in, you react on autopilot.  You have no room for thoughts because your whole being is radiating out with this indefinable _something_ that’s taking up the room for everything else.  Everything is all at once too sharp and not sharp enough.  

 

Without even thinking about it, you’ve got her soy milk and she's there and slowly warming under your hands. She sits up unsteadily and Danny and Perry vacate the room.

 

This isn’t happiness.  Happiness is too small a word, too _common_ for what you’re feeling right now.  This is coming up for air, this is finally being able to breathe again, this is searching through all of time and space to find the place you call home.

 

You're babbling to her because you don't know what else to do.

 

And then she stands and locks eyes with you. And all of a sudden, a searing pain goes through your chest.

 

You stumble a little and she catches you.  Your mind is whirling. You know what this means. But Carmilla already had her soulmate.  Is it possible to be mismatched?  Can that happen?

 

"I just--" Your mouth is gaping open a little, mind not processing quickly enough for everything that’s happened in the last few minutes.

 

"I know sweetheart."

 

"You know?!"  You snap your mouth shut.

 

"I've always known."

 

Your eyes widen. "But you said--"

 

"I needed you safe. But yes. From the moment we first met when you were five."

 

“But Ell--”

 

“I lied.  It’s always been you sweetheart.”

 

There's so much you want to say to her.  You're furious at her for keeping this from you, but also elated because this is confirmation of all your feelings for her for years and years and years.

 

She apparently decides she's done waiting for you to respond and swoops in to kiss you.

 

Oh.

 

This is so much more than that clumsy kiss you'd stolen at 14.

 

Her lips are warm and gentle on yours and she is licking her way into your mouth and you desperately need to feel her closer.

 

There's warmth spreading through your body, warming you in ways you've never felt.  You feel your whole soul singing with every moment, every heartbeat, _she’s alive.  She's alive.  She's alive_.

 

The cracks in your heart are mending more quickly than you thought possible every moment this lasts.

 

It shouldn't be enough after everything, but somehow you can't bring yourself to care.  There will be time to sort out the pieces later.

 

You clutch her tighter, trying to convey all the years of heartbreak and love.

 

You finally break apart and she's smiling that soft smile at you. The one you haven't seen since you were a child.  The one you recognize now as full of all her love for you.

 

Your head is swirling with questions and frustrations and love and sacrifice and everything feels like it’s going to come bubbling out of you.

 

Instead you kiss her.  

 

Because there will be time for talking later and kissing seems so desperately now and you need to kiss her until she’s sure of her feelings for you.

 

Or something.

 

Your brain isn’t exactly functional right now.

 

You pull back and she chases you with her lips, both of you smiling so wide it hurts.

 

"So," you say, after finally catching your breath, "you're my _special_ friend?"

 

You laugh at her exasperated smile, moving to bury your face in her neck, surrounded by her smell.

 

Here there are no exams or evil light demons or warring societies.

 

Here it’s just you and Carmilla.

 

You think that falling in love with her was probably always inevitable.

 

__________

  


_I want to be your last first kiss…_

 

__________

  
  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for following me on this crazy journey. I wasn’t in a great head space when I posted part one, but all the love this little fic has gotten has meant the world.  
> Alright, enough of the sappy. First fic for the Carmilla fandom done. Maybe now I’ll go back to the other Hollstein fic I was working on before I got sidetracked by this one…  
> http://from-dusk-todawn.tumblr.com/


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